She sits alone in her chair
watching, waiting, hoping.
Shapes and shadows pass the window
but still nobody,just nobody comes.

Footsteps echo, but only in her mind
confused visions intermingled with memories
of a distant time and place
faces sometimes smiling,sometimes sad.

Arms that once held, caressed,
protected,shielded,hugged
now sometimes shaking
harsh,frightening and aggressive.

Where are these faces and arms
do they care
are they gone forever
lost and forgotten.

Ghostly. Has a kind of "Eleanor Rigby" feel to it. I like it.

Thank you very much

I kudoed this and was interrupted. I liked the feel and the flow. I'd never want to be this person.

Thank you. No I am glad I anm not that person.

That's really good

Very nice poem, Sue2...